Down the Rabbit Hole
by Journalist793
Summary: May Belle has moved on, and the rabbits are settling back into normal lives, but that all changes one fateful night that they set out for a raid. Now they're stuck in present day London, trying desperately to get home and out of this dreadful human form.
1. Chapter 1

Sun. Frith. Up there, higher than any bird could ever fly, far, far away. Fiver could see it, sending pure streams down to the earth, warm rays that encased both him and the world beneath him.

There was laughter in the air. Though not a rabbit custom, it was familiar. He welcomed it. He embraced it. He loved it.

She ran past him, arms stretched out wide and head dipping down low. Her feet barely touched the ground before lifting off once more. As he watched her go by in wonder, she lifted her head to look at him: a freckled nose, clear blue eyes, soft red curls flying behind. She looked at him. She laughed.

Fiver tried laughing. He couldn't. He tried to follow her. He couldn't do this either. He called for her.

"May Belle!"

She smiled, and then she was gone.

He woke up.

"Ashton!"

There were noises all around her as she ran, down the alley, past graffiti, not stopping until she hit the car that sat empty and alone. She sniffed, putting her forehead to the cool glass of the window. "Ashton," she choked again.

Footsteps echoed from behind her, and, even before she turned to look, she could tell whom it was just by the musty smell lingering all around him.

"Jane," said the voice, a rough hand on her shoulder. He was smiling; Jane could hear it in his voice.

"Le—Leave me alone, Manuel. Go away."

The hand didn't move. It gripped tighter, actually, as Manuel laughed. He spun Jane around to look at him. She flinched, her heart beating fast.

"Don't be upset about it," he purred, bending down to her level. "But it is true, you know. Your brother's gone."

Jane screamed, angry and frustrated and… hurt. "Shut up shut up shut up! You're lying!"

Manuel closed his eye and shook his head. "Jane. Dear, dear Jane, no one's lied to you…" He paused. "Well, unless Ashton promised he wouldn't get caught and be arrested. In that case, you _would_ have been lied to."

Jane grit her teeth and punched the car behind her, but she did not cry. No, she would absolutely not cry. She wouldn't, she wouldn't. But she did scream again. "No! God, no! I don't get it. He's… he's never done anything. He's not a bad person. Why would he be arrested! Lord, no!"

"Yes," he said, his voice sounding not exactly melancholic.

Jane closed her eyes tight and covered her ears, sinking to the ground with her chest tightening more and more. A yellow light danced in her choked-off sight. "No. No. NO!"

Shooting up her hand, she opened up to the shotgun seat of the car, and launched herself inside as she heard Manuel laughing. Locking the door behind her, the girl curled up into a ball, inky black hair falling into her swimming vision, as her voice was lost to another scream.

"…Ow."

There was a small trace of blood as the young woman picked up her hand and saw a piece of glass pricking into her palm. It hurt a lot, especially as she picked it out, muttering aloud, "Alright, who the _HELL_ leaves a broken bottle on the counter?"

She looked up, finding there to be no response, as Jack did not seem to hear. "Jack!" she snapped.

Jack's head swung around, cigarette clenched between his teeth. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment as she glowered. Then he turned back to talk with Mike. The woman's bloody hand clenched into a fist. "Can we just go?"

Jack didn't seem to notice her saying this, but Mike did, and he laughed, shoving Jack playfully. "Hey, Jack," he said with a smile. "You should really keep yo' bitch on a leash."

"You did not just fucking say that!" screamed the woman, standing up and wiping off the blood onto her short black skirt. A couple of diminutive laughs and "oohs" could be heard from guys of the Gunplay Gang, urging her on, and more than one eye-roll could be seen from a few of the women who saw nothing wrong with Mike's comment.

"Yeah, show him who's boss, babe," shouted one guy, knocking a glass off the table in the process.

"Whip his ass, May Belle!"

Jack, however, didn't join in, and grabbed May Belle's arms as she attempted to claw out Mike's eyes. "What's the matter with you?" he said, cigarette still perfectly balanced.

"Me?"

Jack stepped back and released his grasp, trying to pick up his collected smile as he took the cig out of his mouth to speak. "Calm down, May Belle, seriously. Mike's only joking, weren't you Mike?"

Mike smiled slightly and pretended not to hear Jack's question. Jack shrugged and turned back to his girlfriend, running a pale hand through his dark colored hair. He smiled, as if trying to swoon her. "Whatever. Just loosen up, will ya?" he said sweetly. The smile seemed to have no effect.

"Jack, come on, I—" but whatever May Belle was about to say was cut short when Jack dropped a can of Corona in her hand.

"Now go have some fun, tight ass," he said, still not giving up the facade. "Hang with Minnie, or whatever."

The woman's face went into a deeper frown. "Minnie's a slut."

Jack shrugged and turned away, becoming absorbed once more in a conversation with Mike, who seemed to have a lot to laugh about. Bitterly, May Belle surrendered and sat back down, timidly popping the top to her can.

Hazel could see that Fiver was dead set on his decision, and would not be swayed. The thing was, nobody really _opposed _it, because they understood what he'd meant, but it certainly was inconvenient the way that he thought they should avoid raiding Nuthanger Farm after certain incidents that had taken place.

"So what are you saying then, Fiver?" asked Hazel as he, Bigwig, and Fiver were talking off on an otherwise deserted patch of the Down. "I can't think of another farm within walking distance at this time. Look, Frith's already beginning to set in the sky."

"I'm not too keen on a long journey either," sighed Bigwig. "But flay-rah would be nice."

Fiver thought a few moments, trying to find a solution for all of them. His head slightly rocked from side to side as he watched the sky, before finally something else came to him.

"Hold on, didn't Kehaar mention something earlier about a patch of apple trees just a short journey out?"

"I suppose he did," said Hazel, recalling the memory himself.

"Apples…" said Bigwig, thinking for a few short seconds. "Well… Apples wouldn't be all that bad. Not flay-rah, but…"

Fiver relaxed a little more as Hazel broke away for a moment to flag down Kehaar. After a short discussion, the gull agreed that he would lead his friends to where he'd found the apples. "Ees nice," he'd commented aloud while preparations were made. "Apples… dey nice change of pace."

"Yes, I think so," agreed Fiver.

The journey wasn't exactly a long one, but it wasn't too short either. Because it was getting dark, Hazel hadn't called for too many rabbits for fear that he may lose some of them. In the end, it came to a small group of himself, Bigwig, Fiver, Hawkbit, Dandelion, and an excited Pipkin who nearly begged to come along. ("The Originals" Bigwig had joked, to which Hawkbit had replied, "The important ones, that is," and received an annoyed stare.)

After hrair minutes of traveling, the group came upon a stream that seemed to get deeper the farther that they traveled alongside it. Kehaar landed beside his friends and looked around absently. "Hrmm," he muttered under his breath, eyes jumping from here to there. "Should be close."

"Should be?" asked Bigwig, sounding a little surprised. "Kehaar, you're not serious. You told us you knew the way!"

Kehaar shook his head fast and shouted, "OF COURSE, of course. 'E knows the vay. Ees… thees vay." Before anyone had a chance to respond, Kehaar lurched forward again, leaving the rabbits with no other option but to follow.

As the night grew darker, and the rabbits grew less eager for apples and more for their burrows, Bigwig sighed and turned to the group, his disappointment clearly shining through the moonlight. "It's getting dark," he muttered, as if the rabbits couldn't see it for themselves.

"Should we turn back, then?" asked Hazel.

As Bigwig opened his mouth to answer, Fiver felt a chill run up his spine, and he looked up at the night sky, which, oddly enough, seemed to have turned a funny shade of red.

"Yes," replied Bigwig. "Hold on, wait here, I'll get Kehaar. He's the only one who'll be able to see where to turn away from the river."

"Hazel…" Fiver whispered under his breath, too soft to be heard. His eyes were growing wider with each passing moment.

Bigwig made his way out, calling for Kehaar, leaving the rest of the group to themselves. Looking to his side, Pipkin noticed the stream that bended round to so that it was almost directly beside them now and turning into a pond with only a small opening on the far side to exchange water with. Enthralled, he inched his way closer to the water, looking in deep and spotting two fish the circled each other near the surface, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

"Hlao-roo, don't get too close," said Hazel, a hint on concern in his voice. "You don't know how deep that goes. Look, it's so murky, if you fell in we'd never be able to get you out."

Pipkin smiled affectionately. "No, it's okay. I'll be careful, I just wanted to—"

"Pipkin!" Hawkbit snapped, losing his patience, angry at no one in particular because of Frith knows what. This sudden outburst, however, was the perfectly wrong thing to do, as it startled Pipkin. Everyone could see it in his face: the young buck losing balance, terror suddenly taking over and an instinct to bolt put into action. The sudden movement of trying to scramble forward only worsened his balance more, and he tumbled into the pond and seemed to be almost pulled under by an unseen pair of hands.

Looking mortified, Hazel could feel his heart falter for the little buck that he'd grown rather fond of. "Pipkin!" Hazel shouted, worried out of his wits like a proper chief tends to get. He went towards the pond himself in hopes that Pipkin was just beneath the surface and he would be able to pull his friend out, but there was nothing to bee seen through the murk except for two fish, swimming round in a circle as if nothing had happened. "Pipkin, where are you!"

Hawkbit and Dandelion were there, too, searching the water in a frightened frenzy for the young buck. "Where is he?" asked Dandelion. "Why didn't he swim to the top?"

"Hey, what's going on?" shouted Bigwig as he, too approached and could feel the panicky tension in the air. His eyes darted from rabbit to rabbit as he took Pipkin's absence into account. "What the—Hawkbit, what did you do?"

"Why do you assume that this was my doing?" asked Hawkbit angrily, feeling more guilty than anything, and Bigwig's instant accusation was not helping to ease the weight that settled on his chest with Pipkin's fall. However, if Bigwig was going to answer, he never got the chance to, because at that moment—

There was a moaning of the wind in Fiver's ear as the world became lifeless, meaningless scribbles that inched towards him like worms, slowly settling in his paws, ears, eyes, but, most abundantly in his head. He could not move.

—Hazel looked at Bigwig in fear, almost as if his look could explain everything. Perhaps in attempt to illustrate what had just happened (or maybe he was hoping to be throwing Pipkin a lifeline, never mind that fat lot of good something to grab onto would be for a creature without thumbs) Hazel put a paw beneath the water before him, his mind racing frantically. "It's Pipkin, he's—"

Instantly, the submerged paw gave a strong jerk, and something seemed to almost grab hold of Hazel and drag the unprepared chief in, as well. Everyone gasped.

…A bright white light at the end of a tunnel, coming closer and closer like the eyes of a hrududu charging for you in the night. Fiver knew that he had to jump out of the way for his own good, but he was hypnotized. His body did not obey the command.

"Hazel!" Bigwig shouted at the water, which only continued to gently churn, just about mocking the captain of Owsla. _Ha! I have your chief! What do you plan to do about it, Thlayli?_ Looking from side to side frantically, Bigwig made a split second decision, throwing back his ears and narrowing his eyes as he tensed.

"What are you doing?" demanded Hawkbit, seeing that Bigwig was about to perform something foolish. It was obvious, though, that the plan was in motion, and nothing would sway the determined buck who half believed he could achieve anything if you fought hard enough. Dandelion sucked in a breath beside him, radiating fear and confusion.

Offering no answer, Bigwig swam in after Hazel, showing a fearlessness that was hard not to admire. Almost immediately he began to sink like a cinder block, and the last glimpse that either Hawkbit or Dandelion caught of him with his white and brown tail being pulled beneath the surface alarmingly fast.

Moments passed as only Hawkbit, Dandelion, and Fiver were left there, waiting with tension for something to happen. No one had noticed that Fiver was locked within himself. As his paws moved slowly and roboticly to the waterside, an argument that had broken out between an anxious Hawkbit and a distraught Dandelion kept them too distracted to see anything wrong with the little rabbit.

"This… this is my fault!" exclaimed Hawkbit, the situation being too much for even his stubbornness and extremely select acceptance of reality to fight off. "What should we…?

The two stood terrified as Fiver came by their side and peered in, seeing past the murk and into the light in his head. "They're gone," he whispered eerily quiet.

"Well I can _see_ that!" snapped the annoyed buck, his gray ears drooping in defeat. Dandelion looked at him for just a second, as if irritated, before shaking his head.

"Would it be any use to go after them ourselves?" suggested Dandelion after another moment of silence. "Perhaps there's something down there that they're fighting, and they need our help."

"Dandelion, that's insane," muttered Hawkbit as Dandelion hovered a paw just above the water, waiting in the stillness, unprepared.

Trapped inside his mind, Fiver was thrashing in his own world, trying desperately to regain his stolen control. He was screaming, too, for help that nobody could offer. "Don't do it," the buck began to shout. All around him, water was pouring in, drowning him, squeezing the breath from his lungs and the life from his eyes. "Help," whispered Fiver.

…But, in the water, Fiver did not see death.

Fiver saw future.

The water suddenly reared up and in a tiny wave, encasing Dandelion's outstretched paw and dragging him forward with a powerful strength—unlike any Dandelion had ever faced. Hawkbit gasped and immediately, without any thought, threw himself after his friend, unwilling to let him slip away as the rest had. That left only a trapped Fiver there on the surface, staring into the water as it settled back to its calm lapping.

Invisible drums were pounding in Fiver's ears as, now, his legs began to quiver, and his shoulders began to relax. "The world has just opened up for you," said an unfamiliar voice in Fiver's mind, and within himself he searched for the source, but found nothing. All became still as the grip on Fiver's mind and body was loosened. The voice only spoke once more before going silent. "Use it wisely."

The last thing that Fiver saw before fainting was the water rushing up to meet him.

XXX

**Covering the basics: This is a sequel to my original fic, May Belle on Watership Down, which, if you want, I could name all of the things I now hate about it. I desperately want this sequel to redeem myself after that. That being said, I guess I'll bring up the real thing that's been on my mind as I typed this: I'm feeling a sense of unease about this entire fic in general. Sure, I'm confident in my writing and all, but my real wonder is: can you still convey the ideals of Mr. Adams's original and brilliant plot of the fantastical world of rabbits on Watership Down if one of the multiple conflicts, and definitely the rabbits' main one, is that they are no longer rabbits, nor are they on Watership Down? PERHAPS I'm thinking this because all of the other fics have the rabbits as, indeed, rabbits and not humans, and have I missed some sort of unspoken rule that we keep the rabbits as RABBITS and ON Watership Down? Opinions in reviews would definitely be appreciated. -.- But I'm still writing this cause my redeeming thought is: "What the Hell? If worse comes to worse, I'll delete this and pretend that I never wrote it. Ingenious, right?" Ha! Well, whatever happens, I wish this story the best, and I hope you have all enjoyed it. I'd LOVE to hear from you guys, so please review! Second chapter should be up next week, if not earlier, unless something terrible happens! Fingers crossed!**

**Ciao, lovelies!**

**~Journalist793, aka Amy.**

**PS: I'm nervous!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

A pair of brown eyes slowly twitched as the owner began to wake, his head still pounding from the peculiar dream he'd had. The floor of the burrow beneath him was much looser than he had remembered it to be. It made him shudder as he pulled in on himself. "Vilthuril?" he whispered, hoping his mate was nearby, but when he received no reply, Fiver looked up. He was not in his burrow.

The stars in the sky above him were unfamiliarly dim, as if someone had made an attempt to scrub them away, and out in the distance, Fiver could just begin to see Frith poking up over the Horizon, behind distant gray trees without any leaves.

Slowly, Fiver remembered the night before: They'd been making their way out for apples. _Huh_. He supposed that they must've fallen asleep under the cover of these trees, but... but it all seemed so unfamiliar and unlikely. Where were the elil all night? Where were _they_, and why did he felt like he was wet through? Had they been rained on?

Slowly Fiver blinked, and went to run a paw over his face in an attempt to clean through his fur. Instead, he was greeted with a hand.

A shrill shriek pierced through the early morning air of a still-sleeping city, sending any nearby animals into a mad dash for cover. "Hazel!"

There was a rustling behind Fiver, and he turned to see a man standing up, soaking wet and staring at him, bracing as if about to run. Fiver looked at him for about three seconds, and then turned to bolt, only to catch himself stumbling on newfound feet. What in the name of Lord Frith was happening?

"F-Fiver?" asked the man, still looking at him from behind brown hair that fell into his face, still scared, and still thinking. All around Fiver were humans now; all soaked through and dripping, looking confused and terrified.

"Frith on the water," muttered one of them, the tallest and strongest looking of the bunch with hair dark and bushy up on his head. "How did this happen?"

Fiver remained silent, looking to each in fascination and slowly picking out familiar traits. He recognized Dandelion first, being tall and slender with hair much lighter than the rest of them. Pipkin was second, as he looked to be a much younger man than the rest of them, most probably due to his dwarf-like appearance as a rabbit. Hazel was the man looking at him curiously, with his eyes wide and brown (and bright!), and his air of nobility that a chief ought to have even through the leg that seemed to give him a difficult time in walking. Bigwig's identity soon became apparent as Fiver realized all he need do is look for the fur cap that was bushier than the rest. And that left Hawkbit, who had popped up alongside Dandelion with dark tresses the color of his fur. One by one things became recognizable, which was at least a bit calming.

Hunching forward just a bit, as a rabbit would be used to from a life of hopping, Fiver made his way forward and out of the brush. The instinctive reaction to bolt was passed through the atmosphere like a flare, but for the most part they all to steel themselves to their spot. "I think…" said Fiver cautiously, brown eyes searching everywhere for an answer. "I think we may have a problem."

After a good ten minutes of the group working to get itself organized and everyone trying to wrap their mind around the unexplainable phenomena that had taken place, not to mention the countless half-hearted, or some even serious, jokes of those wishing Blackberry had come along because of course he'd know what to do, no one seemed to have gotten anywhere. "What should we do, Fiver?" asked Hazel softly, knowing well that if anyone other than the chief rabbit should be trusted with decisions, it'd be Fiver.

Fiver shook his head. "I haven't any idea, Hazel. I mean, if we could figure out where we are, that'd help. I don't recognize this part of the forest." Just to confirm this, Fiver looked around at the trees once more to see if anything would click.

Nothing.

"No, neither do I," agreed the buck, following his brother's gaze up to the trees. "It's an odd thought, Fiver, but do you think we're dead? Perhaps this is a game in the afterlife, or a test we must pass?"

"I shouldn't think so," replied Fiver, shaking his head slowly. "I… Well, before we fell in, I saw… umm…" Fiver paused, brown eyes trained on the unfamiliar distance.

"A vision?" supplied Hazel, and Fiver gave him a look that was as good as any yes. "I see."

Fiver held his breath for another few seconds, following the birds above him with his eyes as they flitted about from branch to branch. Hazel trailed his gaze, and, for a while, the two brothers said nothing, watching nature as it went on without them.

Pipkin gasped in realization, pointing his finger up and exclaiming, "I can't hear them! It's like they can't speak Hedgerow or anything! Just… chirping." That sent another wave of anxiety to flood the rabbits all over again, as it was rather depressing to know that the member who best understood other animals had no inkling as to what these birds were saying.

"Hazel," said Bigwig sternly, gritting his teeth. "What are we to _do_? The way I'm seeing it, we haven't any shelter, nor have we food, at that. Do we sit here and wait?" Obviously, the buck was upset, and with good reason.

Hazel stood there dumbly, unsure of what to do with his human body and fervently wishing that he did. "You're right. We need to find someplace to stay while we figure out how to get back to being rabbits—if there is a way. Do we… dig?"

Hawkbit and Dandelion groaned in unison, much to everyone else's chagrin.

"A hole now wouldn't be of much use at all. And, oh, look," Bigwig said, holding his hands in front of his face. " It's like these… these _human paws_ aren't even meant for digging. Fat lot of good they are." The annoyance on his face was as austere as a rabbit with no fur. Angrily, the former buck slumped against a tree, brooding.

Hazel looked up at everyone else, crowded round with blank expressions. "That being said…" he muttered, looking back at Bigwig for a few moments. "Bigwig's right, we are going to need to find some place to stay, and a burrow's not going to do it. Remember… Remember where we spent that night hidden in, back when we left Sandleford? See if you can find something like that; that which will cover us sight and smell? Yes, you remember. Now, come on, we can't expect shelter to find itself-oh, but be careful." He looked pleased as they all nodded, getting up to at least find a change of scenery where one may clear their head.

Fiver sighed and nodded at his brother. "That was very nice," he said, for lack of anything better to do. "At least now we won't be hurling ourselves into stones."

"Well, most of us won't be, but you can't be too sure with blokes like these."

Fiver looked indifferently at Bigwig before shaking his head as if there were flies in his ears. As he and Hazel turned to make their own way, which at the moment was only out of the trees and into the light, Hawkbit's voice came across to them in a sincerely curious way, which was a surprisingly uncommon thing to be heard from him. "Fiver," he blurted, and Fiver turned to look, eyes wide and face open.

Hawkbit stumbled and then looked back up, chewing over what he was about to say. "You've got something round your neck."

At the blaring sound of a car honking from just behind her and a voice calling, "Hey! Hey, May Belle, that you?" May Belle opened her eyes, her grip tightening around the little charm that hung from a chain as her necklace. Yes, here she was, in London, standing on a sidewalk, looking like a fool. Not back then, not back there, never again would she be able to—

The car's horn sounded again, and she spun round, blue eyes wide and shoulders tensed. "Jack?" she asked, seeing her boyfriend in the car pulled up next to her. "What in God's name are you—"

"Nevermind that," said Jack, cutting her off with a shrug. From inside his pocket he pulled out a small, palm sized box. Rubbing some grime from off the top of it, he tossed it to her, and she only fumbled slightly as she caught it.

"What's this?" the redhead asked, staring at it dumbly, and Jack smiled.

"Happy Birthday, then." After a moment of May Belle not responding, and only the cars engine filling up the silence, Jack hit the gas and sped on, any previous thoughts of May Belle that lingered in his mind slipping away to other things.

May Belle watched Jack drive on for a few moments before looking back down at his gift. The box was small… It looked only big enough to fit a…

A ring?

Excited now, she bit her lip and lifted the lid, finding there to be an object inside wrapped in tissue paper. "What the…"

There was a tag beneath the tissue jutting out with a short description on the history on the lucky—

Lucky—

_Oh, Jesus Lord, please no._

Peeling back the tissue paper, May Belle felt a jab in the gut as she stared at it—brown and clean, little pads for a paw. _No._

It was a lucky rabbit's foot on a key chain. Although she knew it was a foolish thought, she couldn't help but think about how closely the fur color matched—

_Don't think it. _

Instead, she dropped the box into the gutter, both hands over her mouth as she sank to her knees, choking on bile and tears all at once. The memories were hurting her; those of the past. It was unhealthy to let it bother her after so long; she knew it, but she just couldn't forget him—

Just couldn't forget—

_Fiver_.

Fiver's breath was fast and excited as he backed up, eyes searching everywhere with a newfound purpose. All of his friends' gazes were trained on him, and when he hit a tree that stopped him from moving he looked to his them. The worry and wonderment settled upon the group like a dense fog.

"Is she here? Is she… Is… she?" Every word he spoke was punctuated with a gasp, his mind going so fast that he was out of breath. "May Belle?"

"Fiver, don't get your hopes up. We're in a strange world now. Last time we saw May Belle, she was taken away by that screaming hrududu."

"But Hazel!" there was distress in his voice; a kind of uneasiness that couldn't be helped. "What else would it mean… the necklace? Her necklace? Why would I be w-wearing it if she's not—I mean, it had been back in the burrow when we… when we…"

"Get a hold of yourself, you little runt!" snapped Bigwig, who would only ever lash out in such a manner if he were frightened or angry. In this case, he was angry because he was frightened.

"Bigwig, there is no need for that," said Hazel gently, shaking his head in skepticism. "And Fiver, I really have no idea what it all means, but… but we can't ride through this thinking that May Belle will be waiting just around the corner to take us home . No, I'm sorry, and please don't look at me like that, Fiver. Alright? Good chap."

Fiver swallowed hard, despite his mouth being dry as sand, and looked away. Both his energy and hope were draining away in the face of being denied, but he would not give up his faith. He knew it—he didn't know why, but there it was shining bright in his head. He knew this was related to May Belle in some way or another. "Come on, then," he finally said, and the brown eyed chief furrowed his brow in confusion. Fiver straightened back out. "Well? We're not staying here, are we?"

Hazel, feeling in no mood to argue, simply sighed and began to walk forward, Fiver tailing in behind him. Bigwig shook his head and looked down at Pipkin, who was shorter than him just as always, and nodded. "Come on, then, Pipkin. If we're the last two, I suppose it will balance out, seeing as the brotherly wonders have gone their own way, and these two blighters may as well be off to themselves, seeing as, personally, I'd rather tell stories with a fox than have to put up with either of them."

"Thanks _so much_, chap," sighed Dandelion.

Fiver and Hazel had walked for a few minutes in silence, unsure of anything besides the fact that they should keep moving forward. They were now caught in the middle of a long grassy way, the ground rearing up here and there into small hills. There were nearby voices drifting up from over these hills, and they made the two former rabbits cringe. Hazel lifted brown bangs out of his face and frowned. "What does it smell like to you?" he asked quietly, knowing that Fiver would understand best.

Fiver breathed in a lingering scent around him as he stood unmoving, making no other gesture to even show Hazel that he had heard his question. Although his sense of smell was no longer that which a rabbit should hold in great pride, it wasn't useless, and after a moment he found what Hazel was motioning to. "Food? Fruit, really."

Hazel nodded, and the two of them continued to look ahead unblinkingly. "Should we take advantage of this, then, Hrair-roo? I mean… I understand that there may be danger, but, if you can see anything that would be enough to stop us from looking, please tell me now. Food is something that we're going to need quite soon."

Fiver continued to stare passively, eyes occasionally moving from here to there. He sighed. "If you're asking about danger, than I don't feel like I'm one to say. I don't know, Hazel, it's like there's something blocking my line of vision; a great stone sitting before me that's blocking out Frith's light."

There was a moment of quiet as Hazel stood quietly, waiting to see if Fiver had anything more to say. "Are we going, then?" the former little buck asked, receiving a nod. Quickly, the two of them scampered up the hill, working to make as little noise as possible.

_Deep breath, Jane_, she thought to herself, gray eyes shining in the morning light. _Food... food is the priority. Without it you're going to die. _The plain weight of the thought was enough to make her smile. Sliding the bit of pence that she had back into her pocket, she stepped around a tent and into the sunlight, preparing for the worst.

The scene before her was a typical one: a few tourists, as well as people who lived locally and knew what they were looking for throughout the farmer's market, not to mention the occasional hungry person come to see what they could get for nothing (she was all too familiar with that situation). She shut her eyes in concentration for a few moments before opening them once more, finding there to be something... new.

Fiver looked up suddenly as soon as he felt a cold and impatient glare hit him, holding the two apples in his hand at less than arms length and momentarily enjoying the taste of the sweet juice on his tongue. "Well?" asked the woman from behind the counter, halting Fiver and widening his eyes. "That's fifty pence, lad."

Feeling nervous, Fiver said nothing and only watched. The marble eyes in the vendor's head stared hard at the quivering buck, and he was quite certain that, if he were made of china, he'd certainly be shattered by now.

"Speak English, or what?"

Much to Jane's surprise, the boy with the soft brown hair that fell round his eyes like fluff on a dandelion still said nothing, and the woman's aggravation only expanded as she spoke sternly.

"Lookie here, lad, I've no time for grubby little thieves who can't even-"

And Jane stepped forward, looking almost pensive, pangs of sympathy for this kid- one that looked no older than her- pulsing within her as she grimaced. She knew what it was like to be hungry, how hurtful it can be to have someone call you a thief, even if you are one. "Wait…" she said softly, her voice catching in her throat. The woman didn't seem to hear.

"... And if you think that you can just waltz on over here and take what you like from _my_ tent, the merchandise that's keeping _me_ alive, then you are sadly-"

"Wait!" Jane said again, this time louder than she had intended. People turned to stare, and she blushed absently.

"Young lady," began the woman again, "if you can't see, I am in the middle of-"

"No, no, the... the apples. I'm, um..." finding great trouble in articulating what she meant to say, Jane simply dropped fifty pence on the table, eyes averted. She couldn't help but notice how hollow her pocket felt now, but standing by and watching a hungry person getting beat on like that... it would have hurt more.

Fiver, his lips still pressed together and his silence staying about, jerked back and stumbled, finally his spell of frozen fear breaking. He looked to this girl that was only shorter than him by a bit. She was frowning, just like the woman behind the fruit stand had been moments ago, but it was more of a thoughtful, planning-of-a-clever-plan frown. Her eyes only came to his for a moment before she rolled them and turned away, dark hair swishing behind her as she left with a hurried pace. "Hey..." said Fiver, quietly and hardly reaching the ears of anyone but himself. "Hey... no, wait!" He began after her, Hazel alongside him after watching from a distance in silence, him having been unsure of what to do as he was still unclear on what Fiver had done wrong (although, had he known, there was no doubt that he would have stepped in to defend Fiver).

Jane felt the vibrations of footsteps behind her just as she had rounded a corner, and, spinning back to see that boy from the farmer's market (_Oh, look at that, _now_ he can move...)_, she watched him as he skidded to a stop, a similar looking fellow that must've been his brother close in tow.

"Why did you do that?" the boy asked suddenly, face showing clear signs of confusion a nervousness, and Jane crossed her arms impatiently.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry for trying to help you out."

"No, no, I'm not upset about it," said Fiver quickly, going back and forth with what he was saying. After failing to find the correct words, he looked back at Hazel, finding himself at a loss.

Hazel looked to the girl almost as if he could see straight through her steeled gray eyes and into the scared child that lay inside. "Thank you very much for what you did back there. We're, well... we're a bit lost and aren't sure where to go from here. My brother didn't mean any harm. We should be the ones apologizing."

For a few ticks, the gray-eyed girl was stunned at how formally the man was addressing her, and, much to her bolt from the blue, she didn't know what to say. "Oh, uhh... No need... Ack." She blushed again, never having liked to stutter, and turned away suddenly, running down the alley and back to the only safe place that she knew, and not once looking back once.

Hazel's shoulders relaxed as he watched her run off, still not being to keen on the idea of getting so close to humans, despite that fact that, unfortunately, he now was one. "Well, that's that," he muttered with firm conviction, but Fiver wasn't too sure.

A pulsing began at the back of Fiver's head, ranging out further and further with each painful beat. "Hazel..." he said, stumbling back once more and was only held upright by his brother, who said something in question to Fiver, but it never reached his ears.

From behind Fiver's eyes, the entire world began to pulse in sync with his own beat, and there were bright neon flashes all around him. The man burrows that encased the stretching alley that lay before him began to bend and sway until the tops on either sides met and formed an arch. Unknown voices began from unseen mouths to howl noises far too blurred for there to be words within them, and, there, up above the world that he stood on, was a dark cloud with a red lining, evil and glowing and...

...and familiar.

Shaping and twisting itself as it went about, the cloud began to descend, reaching, reaching, reaching down to the ground, moving with it's sights set on one thing.

"That girl," he said just as Jane turned a corner, the dark cloud dissipating away and the world melting back into it's facade that Fiver could only ever see past. "She's... That girl's in danger."

"Fiver, what do you mean?"

Abruptly, Fiver lurched forward in the direction that she had been running, only to find something catching him on the way. He looked back at his brother, who now had a tight grip on his arm.

"Fiver?"

There was a moment of silence as Fiver looked down at his feet that were all set to run off after the girl whose name he didn't even know. "I can't just stand by and let her be hurt."

"No... No, I can't let you go, it's dangerous out there, you said so yourself."

Brown eyes inched up slowly, slowly, until the two brothers were staring at each other, and there seemed to be a warmth passing straight from Fiver's eyes and into Hazel's. A promise. The gripping hand loosened up in the slightest, and as soon as Fiver felt this, he shot off down the alley and after Jane, knowing he had to be quick. Hazel spiked forward, too, but faltered on his bad leg, leaving him only to watch his brother disappear, his promise of coming back soon, and coming back safely.

With a dejected sigh, the chief pushed back his hair and turned to head back to the trees where the others would surely be waiting with questions.

**XXX**

**So, umm... how long has it been? Inconveniently long, or obnoxiously? Well, either way... I'm terribly sorry. (And to think that my goal was to post the second chapter two days after I had posted the first xD.) If you don't know who I am, I'll tell you now that if the things that I write are below quality... it makes me wanna crawl into a dark corner and starve. ^_^ Moving on, I do hope you enjoyed my second installment, and found it to be as top-notch as the first. Pretty much, I have nothing to say now. My work speaks for itself. So leave your comments after hitting that pretty colored text down below and tell me what you're thinking... Please. I beg of you. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with May Belle's journey this long (it's been a year and a half, you know). **

**Ciao!**

**~Journalist793, aka Amy.**

**PS: Okay, I lied, I do have one thing to say. Although I have absolutely no idea on how I would get this to work, imagine this: A human Vilthuril and May Belle getting into a catfight while Fiver's in the background going "No, no, stop!" ... Anything's possible.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

May Belle knew that something was wrong the moment she stepped past her doorframe. Though there was nothing noticeably wrong with her apartment, she could feel the disturbance lingering in the air like a scented candle. Her eyes, still misty from the initial shock of Jack's gift, skimmed the room slowly until they landed on the telltale clue of her old friend's presence: an earthy green messenger bag with a wooden cross—one that was so large that it bordered on obnoxious—looped round the strap, lying in the corner of her worn sofa.

It was at this moment that Lucy Cane popped her head in from the kitchen.

"There you are."

She grinned her straight-toothed smile, watching the motionless May Belle.

"Well, come in. It's your apartment."

Still, May Belle, made no move—just stared at her friend, who turned back into the kitchen as though it were her own. She was surprised, but not confused. Lucy seemed to have a habit of acquiring some invitation that was never issued to her. As May Belle set her purse onto the couch and cast another pointed glance at the door to the kitchen, Lucy made her way back out with two steaming mugs.

"Do you like tea? You like tea, don't you."

_To be perfectly honest_, May Belle rolled her eyes as that thought shot off in thousands of directions, but accepted the mug in silence. It wasn't that May Belle was displeased with Lucy's having come to visit—under different circumstances, she would have been happy to see her friend after so long. However, after the events of today, May Belle didn't think she could handle anything else.

After a few more moments of Lucy being oblivious to May Belle's troubled look, the redhead sighed and set down the mug. "Lucy, this isn't—"

But Lucy was fast in cutting her off, already knowing what May Belle was bound to say, and, in her short time waiting for May Belle to return home, she'd already prepared her argument. "May Belle!" she shot, crossing her arms. "If you're about to tell me I shouldn't have come out to visit you—_on your birthday_—you may as well give up the idea now, because I'm not leaving. Whether you like it or not, I'm here for you. So, I want you to cheer up and wipe those tears off…" Lucy's good-hearted smile dropped suddenly, and she went to her friend's immediate side, silently studying the traces of discontent on May Belle's face with intense concern. "What happened?"

"Stubbed my toe."

"It's Jack, isn't it?" A flash of frustration crossed Lucy's eyes. "May Belle, what did he do?"

Manuel grunted in exhaustion as his pulse quickened. His good eye was shut tight as he breathed heavily, trying to do his best to keep from ripping everything in sight to pieces.

"_Antoine_. I need it—_now_."

Antoine's sickly yellow eyes flicked upwards to the burly man that lay on his couch, curled up as his mad hunger drove him to obtain that which he could not.

"Calm down, fluffy," he muttered, chuckling to himself wryly. "I'm sure she'll be back soon. Where does the girl have to call home other than that car?"

"I swear," replied Manuel. "If she's not back soon I'll go out there and slit the throat of the first man I can get a hold of."

"Hey! Okay," Antoine turned away from the window to give Manuel a piercing glare, crossing his arms like a stern mother lecturing a child. "_You _need to control yourself," he huffed in his twangy voice. "I don't know if you're familiar with this custom, Fuzzy, but here, amongst humanity, when you kill people, and other people find out, life gets _very_, _very_ messy—mess that, right now, we don't need. We're lucky enough that we've got the girl at our disposal. If not for that royal screw up her brother made, we'd be out of options, but now that she's living alone, well…" He licked his lips in thought. "We're lucky."

Manuel continued to glower from his spot on the couch, but whether it was from the physical pain that tore through his limbs, or from the indignity of being called "Fuzzy," he couldn't say.

Antoine sighed. "She'll come."

And it was then that footsteps came slapping up the alleyway. The two men froze in sudden alertness. Turning back to the window, Antoine saw Jane running up the alley, and broke into a grin. "She's here."

Jane paused for breath, doubling over and turning round to see if she was being followed. There was no one was in sight.

"Hello, sweet pea," said a chilling voice from behind her. Jane jumped, then cautiously turned around to see Antoine stepping out from his back door. He slowly descended the steps, never taking his eyes from her. "I'm so lucky you're here—I need your help."

For a moment, the girl was dumbstruck by Antoine's sudden appearance, and a short quiver took her heart before she could gather her thoughts and steel her defense. "You can go suck a cock, Antoine. I don't want anything to do with you." Her voice was edgy and broken from being out of breath.

"Oh…" Antoine held his smile in place. "Calm down, you. This has nothing to do with my… _business_." He chuckled merrily. "No, no, I just have some boxes I need help carrying up a staircase, see. Manuel's a bit under the weather, you know, but I'm sure you could help me out."

"I... Antoine, to hell with you. No," Jane repeated, turning and beginning to walk away. "Just stay away from me." She turned her back from him in disgust, hoping that his attempt at persuasion would cease, but he simply rushed forward to intervene her path.

"Miss Jane," he said, his voice low and smooth like undisturbed ice. "Surely I could offer you some reward for your assistance." He pulled a 20 euro note from his pocket and offered it forward, watching in satisfaction as Jane's defensive glare dropped. His voice was a sickly sweet as she gave him a silent look—so close to agreeing. "It'll only be a moment of your time."

"It's so tragic, isn't it?" whispered May Belle after such an empty, prolonged silence, that she felt she could have fallen into it and never stopped falling. She pulled out the sloppily wrapped gift box containing that wretched thing and shoved it into Lucy's hands, all the while saying in a cracking voice, "Isn't it? To love something so much, and… it never being able to love you back, because—" and then came a flash of anger. "Because... They all told me...They said he wasn't real, Lucy. That he was just..." she was cringing now, nails digging into the cushion beneath her "...just the hallucinations of a mad girl, is all. Some poor, sick, insane little girl who they found lying half-dead on hill talking to…"

"May Belle," began Lucy, reaching out to keep her friend from collapsing into a heap. "May Belle, stop it. You don't mean a word you're saying."

"Talking to _rabbits_!" she continued as though she hadn't even heard Lucy. A tear fell from one of the bright blue eyes, and she raised a fisted hand in an attempt to stop them. Now she couldn't stop the words from pouring out. After Jack's "gift" today, something inside her was triggered that she just could not recover from. "And everyone she's ever tried to tell about these rabbits—No, about these _feelings_...feelings that these rabbits seem to only be a result of... Feelings of imminent danger coming full speed on toward you—" She suddenly jerked backward in a terrified frenzy, eyes wide like those of a cornered animal. "Anyone she tries to tell—they don't believe her. It leaves this girl... so alone in the dark… the freezing dark, trying to find…"

"May Belle!" Lucy could see her May Belle's eyes drifting further and further away, terror on her face becoming more prominent by the moment. She took her friend's shoulders in an attempt to stop her jerking twitches, but, finally, when she could tell there was no other way to bring May Belle back to Earth, Lucy resorted to slapping her best friend clean and hard across the face, trying to forcefully bring her attention back to the real world. At that point, it seemed that everything that was keeping May Belle rooted in this horrifying existence fell away, and the pain was shed like an old skin.

May Belle stared at Lucy in misty confusion, all the world around her seeming to shimmer like the surface of water. She was floating, once more in peaceful content. Time was not present. Lying in the warmth of her Down, wearing a familiar yellow sundress, the clean scent of grass came rolling in from far over the hill with not a cloud in the bright blue sky to mar this fantasy. The girl took a deep breath a closed her eyes, trying to gather up as much of the scene as she could and stuff it into her mind. Still, just when the image in her mind was beginning to grow blurry around the edges with little cracks nosing their way through the image, a voice faintly whispered into her ear, leaving an echo the covered May Belle like a blanket—a voice that she had missed for a long, long time.

The body breathed. "…trying to find her little rabbit."

At some point, though May Belle was not sure exactly _which_ point it was, Lucy had pulled May Belle close, allowing her to finally relax, protected by someone she truly felt safe with. They sat like this for a long time before May Belle finally muttered only so Lucy could her.

"Lucy? Will she ever find him?"

For some time after that, the girl laid in quiet exhaustion, waiting for an answer that she knew Lucy could not give. Lucy, however, decided to give her friend and answer, and after a few more moments of this newly found serenity, May Belle felt a wooden object being slipped into her hand—her friend's huge cross; Lucy's wordless promise that there was no doubt she would see Fiver again. Still, at the touch of it, May Belle felt a shock blast through her body, causing her to recoil. He skinny fist took hold of the cross and clutched it hard, feeling something originating and the cross before beginning to form in her mind. An idea. No, a _vision_. Even upon shutting her eyes, the image stayed put.

There was a meadow lingering in her mind, which quivered in the slightest hint of tension just before shattering and erupting into pitch-black flames, spreading far too fast for any being to control, or even follow. It was from these flames that a creature tumbled out of. At first glance, May Belle took it for the shape of a man, and all logic would agree with her, except for her frail, withered mind that continually insisted to her that it was something other. Whatever the thing was, it—(No, _he..._she was sure it was a he)—took a step toward her, and then another, trying to steady himself as though he were walking on a pair of new legs.

Whether it was that May Belle could not move, or simply did not know if she wanted to, she had no idea, but either way she stayed planted as the figure came nearer, seeming to almost… recognize her? Still, the creature's intentions were never truly revealed, for, just when she and the figure were looking one another in the face, and she, herself, begin to reach a cautious hand toward it, the ground beneath her split open with a crack and an echoing boom, and, quick as a flash, swallowed her up whole.

...And, all the while, as though some gruesome demon had yanked back a fistful of May Belle's hair and was proceeding to slit her throat at a leisurely pace, May Belle's voice came up from some deep buried depths, desperately screaming out a word—_a name_—for help; something that she'd been hiding away for years and years, and was now unable to stop it from bursting at the seams of her very consciousness.

_Fiver._

The vision seemed that it would go on forever—that it would just continually eat away at her mind, condemning May Belle to the hell that would never relinquish its horrific hold. Then, like a hole in a dam having a patch slapped on and corking it in an instant, everything fell away, leaving her in a gasping heap back in her apartment, already tightly wrapped in Lucy's arms.

Weak, trembling, and shocked upon realizing that a vision had just ripped its way past her, after having been left alone and untouched by her dormant sixth sense for six years now, the girl began to so. Whispering the name once more, she held her breath, letting the memories wash over her.

"Fiver..."

It was heard by nobody but herself.

"Wait."

The unfamiliar voice had crept up on Jane so silently and suddenly that she gave a jump and spun round, turning her back on Antoine and his cash. For a brief moment, she was confused by what she saw before putting two and two together. All of the color rose to her cheeks as she realized there he was, once more, that boy that she had done her anonymous favor to, having somehow kept up with her mad sprint and followed her here.

Fiver saw the man that had been talking to this girl—whoever she was—look up at him sharply, his sickly sweet smile now melting away into some distorted look of rage, obviously having been so close to achieving what he was about to do: the horrible thing that Fiver had seen, though specifically he knew not what it was.

"You…? W-why'd you follow me?" said Jane, with a tongue that seemed sloppy an uncoordinated in her mouth. "You shouldn't…"

The kid took his gaze from off of Antoine and focused in on her with piercing intensity, much to Jane's utter frustration. "Listen to me," he said, taking a step closer to her, and she could feel tension radiating from off of Antoine as he bristled behind her. "There's no way that I can explain to you what I mean, or how I know, but you need to believe me." Another step. Ordinarily, Jane would've taken a step back to equal out the distance between her and this potential threat, but now she just stood there dumbly, waiting for the boy to continue.

Fiver raised a trembling hand to point at the man standing behind her, whose dark aura struck terror into the young buck's heart. "Stay away from him. He means to hurt you."

For a moment, Jane was confused, and stood there like a lout wondering what the boy could mean. Before she had really processed what he was saying, Antoine placed a bony hand of almost skeletal fingers on her shoulder, gripping like a restraint. She flinched, fear suddenly taking residence on her face.

"Listen here, bucko," whispered Antoine, and the boy braced, his body seeming strong, but his face suddenly seeming frightened and fragile. "These are dangerous streets you're gallivanting up and down, and if I were you, I'd be careful as to who I slung accusations at. Now why don't you just leave, and I'll forget your face. That seems like the best thing for the both of us, eh?"

Though the brown eyes poured out a million things that the boy wished to say, his mouth remained unmoving, and Antoine only gripped harder. "Did you _hear_ me?"

And that was when something overcame Fiver—like a small disruption suddenly sprouting in his brain. His head gave a sharp snap to the side, followed by his entire body with a jolt, turning to stare directly into the eyes of—

Sorry, the _eye_ of Manuel, who sneered from where he stood in the window, the scarred bit of his face giving him an eerie glow. As the weary man watched, his face twitched in some sort of agony, hungrily focusing in on the boy as though there was something about him being there that made Manuel want to fight; made him want to kill.

The boy's face was hard set in thought, as though the man in the window sincerely perplexed him. Perhaps the two would have stood there staring at one another all day, if not for Antoine giving a sharp call for Fiver's attention. "Hey! Get _out_ of here before I lose my temper." At this, Jane began to silently panic. She reached up to try and pry the fingers from off her shoulder, but found them to have an iron grip.

Fiver felt his pulse climb as he realized that this man intended to get his way, and wouldn't let down without a fight. But… how could he fight when he was suddenly feeling so weak? It was as though he had become the seeds on a dandelion, and could be shattered at the will of the wind. Everything around him became still—the terrified girl now looking at him for help; the tall spindly man whose face was growing red as a beet in rage; and this dark shadow that shimmered against the windowpane up in that man burrow. _As though it were the claw of the black rabbit himself_, he thought to himself.

And, suddenly, he was sprinting, heart racing as though elil were in pursuit behind him, up to the girl that was so close to danger—the black rabbit's breath rippling through her hair, and took hold of her hand, throwing his shoulder into the man who (_thank Frith) _lost his balance.

Regaining his composure, Antoine at first tried to give chase after the two as they ran away at a made pace, but, seeing as he was a poor excuse for a racer, quickly gave up. Instead, seeing that this situation called for desperate measures, he determinedly pulled a handgun out from his pocket.

Fiver hit the ground at the first crack of the thunderstick; not that he was hurt, just scared out of his skin. The girl, however, assuming the worst, stopped in her tracks despite the danger and covered her mouth the conceal a gasp of horror, thinking that Fiver was dead. "No," he said in slight annoyance. "No, I'm fine. Keep going, it's not…" as he stood, a blankness overcame his face, and he took in a sharp breath. "Go," he whispered.

Jane made no move. "Go!" he said anxiously, grabbing the girl's arm and yanking her forcefully to the side just as another bullet whizzed by. With what little wits she had left, Jane was mortified. _Holy shit. That would have hit me. How did he…? _

"Now, run," Fiver ordered, breathing heavily as the sense of fear surrounding him squeezed the air out of his lungs."And—_don't_ stop until it's safe." And then he turned and cleared the place, showing a surprising amount of speed for his seemingly frail figure.

As Antoine watched Fiver and Jane turn the corner of the alley without even a bullet wound to show for his attempts, the usually calm Scandinavian man threw down his gun in complete frustration, looking to the dark, burly man that was stumbling out to join him. "Shit! Now what?"

Manuel grunted, the great amount of fascination and suspicion overcoming his pain. "That boy," he said, his voice dark and eerie. "Have you ever seen him before?"

"The kid? Haven't a clue, mate. Why didn't you come out and help me there? I'm doing this for _you_ after all."

Manuel flicked his wrist in disregard to the question. "There's something odd about him."

"Like the fact that he was somehow onto our friggin' scandal? Yeah, no _shit_, Sherlock."

"Beyond that," continued Manuel. "I feel as though he's..." Manuel sighed. "Oh... nevermind."

"What?" demanded Antoine, now turning and crossing his arms.

Manuel shook his head in exhaustion and began to go back in. "Find me blood, Antoine," he ordered, and before the man could protest, the bloodshot eye was turned back towards him with a look that almost struck fear into Antoine's heart. "It is my belief that... a situation is rising."

The two bucks were silent as they stared out from behind a tree, Hawkbit hunched over to allow Dandelion room to see as well. They could feel their stomachs rumbling in dissatisfaction, watching the men out before them picking up fruit as though they were acorns.

"Do you think..." began Dandelion in a misty confusion, "if we were to walk up and take a bit of flay-rah, anyone would challenge us?"

"If it were just one or two men out there, I'd say we could go for it, chap. But, if trouble were to arise, I don't think we'd be able to fight off the whole lot of them."

Dandelion sighed. "What do you think El-ahrairah would do if he were us?"

With a chuckle, Hawkbit slid to the ground, resting a cheek against the tree. "Probably fall to the earth, begging Frith to turn everything back to normal."

The two friends looked at each other in serious consideration, and perhaps in a few more minutes they _would _have taken to trying such a remedy if not for Bigwig suddenly appearing with Pipkin in tow.

"Oi!" he shouted, scampering over to the two and studying them carefully, glad to have found Hawkbit and Dandelion alright. "You two seen Hazel and Fiver? They came over this way."

"Not a sniff of them," sighed Hawkbit, shutting his eyes in hopeless despair. "Perhaps they've gone and fallen down another hole, this time finding themselves in King Darzin's lettuce patch. What do you think?"

"I think... you should shut up, Hawkbit," replied the veteran, far too exhausted from the events of today to be able to think of clever threats for Hawkbit. "It's bad enough that I've been stranded in this... this _man warren_ with no means of protection- but to be stranded with _you_?" he sighed, shaking his head in an overwhelming frustration. "Well, that's an entirely new layer of misfortune."

"Always the inspiration, Bigwig." The new voice entering from behind the group of four sent a jolt of surprise through the former rabbits, each of them starting up like a frightened flock of birds. They turned, perhaps with the intention to bolt, only to find a troubled-looking Hazel standing behind them... alone.

"Fiver turn invisible, then?" asked Bigwig, regaining his composure and immediately picking up on the absence of Fiver. The mighty veteran frowned when Hazel showed a slight hesitation before answering.

"He ran off."

"And you let him!" Hazel could see that Bigwig was close to the point of disbelief.

Now the chief looked pointedly at his captain of Owsla, obviously just as vexed by the situation. "I all but let him go, Bigwig. He just... went off without a word, saying that he needed to help this... this girl."

At this, the brooding Hawkbit's ears pricked up, and he let out an exasperated sigh to gather attention."So Fiver's found himself another girl to attach himself onto?" he muttered, his thoughts coming across his face very clearly. "Didn't your mother teach him any etiquette, Hazel?"

Hazel's face pulled into a tight frown, trying best to control his anger and frustration, but finding it hard to tolerate Hawkbit's unnecessary commentary in this situation. Sternly, controlling his tone best he could, he answered, "That is _quite_ enough out of you, Hawkbit. One more word from you and I'll be turning methods of controlling your attitude over to Bigwig."

Silence filled the void that would most often be occupied by a sadistic reply. Though not a lavish triumph, Hazel found some small bit of satisfaction in this, though it was short lived. He turned back to Bigwig and motioned to the outskirts of the shaded patch they were in, pointing out a group of humans standing in a cluster, occasionally glancing the rabbits' way. "They're talking about us," he muttered. When Bigwig gave him a skeptical look, the wise chief quickly continued. "I passed them on my way back here and caught them discussing how we should be removed."

"And you're sure it's us they mean?"

"Well, I don't see anyone else that they should worry about. Their words were very precise- it's almost as though they thought of us as a bunch of hlessi." Hazel sighed. "I should like to avoid a run in, if it's possible, though."

"Do you think they'll kill us?" piped in Pipkin from his defensive position, eyes wide and adding a sense of fear to the scrawny figure. "Or take us prisoner, like Efrafa would?"

"Don't talk rot, Pipkin," said the captain of Owsla reassuringly. "Do they look stupid enough to try and cross path with me?"

That helped to relieve some of the tension of the group, as they all chuckled shortly. "Still," began Hazel as the silence settled back in, "we ought to get a move on and find a shelter we can rely on for the time being. My only worry is Fiver, though. Right now, he knows how to find us, and we have to keep it that way."

"Then what are you suggesting we do? Leave a trail of droppings for him to follow?" Though Dandelion's joke fell flat, it gave him and Hawkbit both something to snort about. The two were silenced with a pair of looks, both equally vicious.

"No," replied Hazel, once the two were both under control. "My idea is that one or two of us wait here while the rest of us scope out the area. Once Fiver comes around, someone grabs him and waits for news of where we're settling for the night."

Bigwig nodded, turning the plan over in his head to search for faults. "It's safe, to say in the least- just as long as we don't lose our sense of where this wooded patch is."

"Which won't be a problem!" supplied Pipkin, showing a bit of excitement at the idea getting to scout the area. "We'll just have to follow the scent of flay-rah coming from those piles of it back there."

"Now, hold on Pipkin," said Hawkbit, getting to his feet. He was well prepared to say that if anyone was going to be left waiting for Fiver, it'd be the runtish buck who didn't even hold a position on Owsla, but Bigwig interrupted just as he opened his mouth.

"Hawkbit. Dandelion. Thank you for volunteering."

Fiver fell to his knees in the first ditch he came across, clutching at his chest as though he were trying to stifle the mad pace at which his heart was beating. Jane stumbled beside him after a few beats, her face bright red from the fear and exhaustion.

"We're safe here," he sputtered to the girl, collapsing into a patch of weeds that sprouted of through the grimy dirt. After a moment, the brown eyes were able to focus on something other than their mad search for danger, and the pair floated up to look at the girl. "Are you alright?"

Jane looked to him, still confused and terrified, but having enough wits to nod. "I'm fine... Are you?" She saw no traces of blood, and sighed in relief as Fiver nodded. They'd made a clean break from... from... "What _was_ that about?"

"I don't..." the buck looked away from her, down at his dirtied hands, with lips pursed in contemplative silence. The unanswered question bothered Jane to no end.

"Well, you have to have some idea... I mean, you came for me, didn't you?" She stopped that thought short, realizing too late that her voice suggested his "coming for her" had sparked more emotions than just her curiosity. Fiver hadn't even noticed. "_Why_ did you come for me, though?" she probed.

Fiver gave her a hard look, wishing he could give her some sort of palpable answer. "You were in danger," he said, as though it were obvious.

"I don't understand what danger I was in. Antoine said he needed my help, and I may very well have helped him if not for you running in and playing with his temper."

Fiver, as patient as he usually was, felt the trying events that had been plaguing him all day weigh down inside of him, and was beginning to be frustrated with this girl who was arguing with the fact that he had practically dragged her away from the imminent danger she'd been carelessly stumbling into. Mustering up an old rabbit proverb, his voice suggested a light defensiveness as he looked her dead on, saying, "Just listen to me. The sweetest smelling berries may well be the poison that ends you."

"Berries? What are you talking about?"

After a moment of realizing that there was no convincing this girl, Fiver stood up. "Forget it." Now he was clearly offended, which gave Jane's stomach a painful twist. "Go back and get yourself mixed up with his _hraka_ if you really want to, but I've warned you." He turned and began to leave, wondering where Hazel might have gotten to and if he had been wrong to desert his brother. His anger had long melted away and been replaced by worry when a voice, now much less accusing than it had been moments ago, broke through his thoughts.

"Wait, please. I'm sorry."

He turned back, the girl now standing, and looking at him sadly. "I shouldn't have... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Five softened. "It's fine."

The girl approached him gingerly, seeming to almost be trying to gain his sympathy. "I just... how could you have known what was happening?"

Fiver had to hold back a bitter sigh, having always dreaded the prospect of having to explain his visions to others. He looked at her gray eyes with intensity, finding no immediate thoughts to radiate from off of her, as though her emotions were being held back by a stone wall, impenetrable to Fiver. After several seconds of trying to correctly word his answer, he shook his head. "It's something I can't explain. Just... Sometimes I know things that others can't possible know, and... well, I have to act on them. That's why I came to warn you."

Jane was obviously still confused, and probably would have asked more questions if Fiver had not abruptly lurched forward once more. "I have to go, anyway. My brother... he's probably worried." Before taking off, he turned to look at her once more, eyes wide and worried—_always_ worried. "I... I meant to ask, though. What was your name?"

Jane stepped after him with a thoughtful frown crossing her face, now feeling a terrible need to not let him go. "Jane."

"Jane." He nodded, brown hair falling forward once more. "Well, be careful then, Jane. There's... there's a lot more danger out there than you really know." He shivered, looking off. "I'm Fiver." He managed a smile. "Goodbye."

_Goodbye? _Thought Jane, appalled at this boy—_Fiver_'s nerve to just drop in on her and then right back out. "Wait," she was saying, but he was off once more with the speed of a rabbit.

For short while, she dumbly watched him heading back in the direction of the farmer's market that she'd first met him in, wondering what to do. Then the reality of the situation hit her: She couldn't go back to the car, because that's where Antoine and Manuel would be waiting for her, and although Fiver's warning hadn't made much sense to her, he'd seemed so _sincere_ about it and... and now it was beginning to scare her. She had no one in the world now that Ashton was—_gone_. Nowhere to go, except...

After maybe a moment more of lonely contemplation, Jane had made a decision. Quick as she could, the girl lurched forward in a mad sprint, following the path that Fiver had taken.

Besides, she still had questions.

**xxxxxxxx**

**So, I've been worrying myself endlessly these past five days as I've continuously been coming back to this chapter and adding edits. I wish there was some way I could have added more to do with the rabbits here other than Fiver, and I most definitely will be doing that next chapter. Honestly, I'm seeing all of my human characters as being like "Waaaah. I'm very sad." Seriously. May Belle, of course, I have sympathy towards, as she seems to suffer a kind of post Doctor's Companion depression (Doctor Who fans?). Like, experiencing magic and wonder and purity of Watership Down before being returned to the human race. ^_^ Of course, isn't that what's happened all of us, fans of this amazing book? As for Jane, though... well... . I guess I've given more reason for an audience to be annoyed with her than I have for sympathy.**_ (sssiiiigggghhhh)_** All in all: Please review. This chapter was a bit slow, and I'm truly sorry for that, but there were several things that are needing to be introduced in order for the plot to rise. I'm pretty much just looking forward to the point where I can stop focussing on three thusfar unrelated people and start putting them together as a story... which will probably happen next chapter. ;D **

**Certainly hope you've enjoyed it, and thank you all so much for reading. You're all beautiful.  
**

**~Journalist793, aka Amy.**


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